Subject to Change
by Arcadia Val
Summary: "No one stays as they are now, Harry," said Dumbledore sadly, "You may not like what you see. It may be too different for you to comprehend."   Harry and Severus slash. AU from book 6. Very mature themes. Enjoy


**Subject to Change – by Arcadiaval**

**A/N** The following will be **discarded** for the purposes of this fic:

Parts of the **sixth book** (let's assume that Harry and Dumbledore got the fake locket, Draco didn't succeed and Snape didn't take the oath)

The **entire seventh book** ;)

Will contain **slash and adult themes** (yay!)

**No MPreg**.

I do not own. All based on J.K's characters, settings and plot. I am simply using them for my own amusement (even though I feel that I should be over Harry Potter by now! Oh well…)

Begin the mayhem!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – Born to Die<strong>

Curling the fingers of his good hand around his white beard, Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, his thoughts swirling around his ever busy mind. So much had happened in his long life. So much. Good and bad. The interesting and the mundane. None of which he could take back and redo, no matter how much he may have wanted to. The past was a fixed point.

From his selfishness childhood, to his reckless teenage years with Gilbert, up until his time as head of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus had placed people in situations for 'the greater good' and had these people follow his directions based on trust and hope. He looked down at the blackened, withered hand that peeked out of the sleeve of his robe – when looking back, not all of his decisions had been the wisest.

Albus wondered, not for the first time, if what he was about to ask of someone was simply going too far…

The Boy Who Lived sat in front of his Headmaster and mentor. His mind was trying to take in the information that he had just been given.

Dumbledore was dying.

The Gryffindor couldn't help but stare at the cursed hand. What were they going to do without Dumbledore. What was _he_ to do without him?

"Fortunately," continued Dumbledore as though he was speaking about toffee apples, not his own, certain death, "Professor Snape estimates that I still have around six months before the curse spreads from the skin of my chest to the muscles and, finally, my heart. Therefore, my boy, we have a little time."

"Time for _what_?" Harry jumped up from his seat and paced the rug under him, back and forth. "How am I supposed to find the Horcruxes? What about the Order? Who will be in charge?" Harry didn't care that he was almost yelling now. "How am I to defeat him? How can we possibly win? I haven't a bloody clue." Harry racked a hand through his messy hair and, just realizing that he swore at Dumbledore, collapsed with a thump and a soft "Sorry" onto the chair.

Dumbledore placed his healthy hand under his chin. "No need to be sorry, Harry. You have struck true with your words. What we need right now, is time."

The twinkling eyes started up and Harry had the sudden urge to speed up Dumbledore's progress to join death. Dumbldore must have caught onto his dark thoughts because as the wizard chuckled and lent back in his chair. "I am sorry that I am speaking in riddles and half-truths, Harry. I suppose that it is rather frustrating for you. But please understand that what I am about to ask of you is fraught with unknowns. I am worried. Soon I will be gone and you will be faced with the task of destroying Tom Riddle. Hense, what we lack is time and knowledge. I have been unable to unearth any more recounts then what we already know and I fear that we may never find all of the Horcruxes. However, I may have an unusual solution to our problem.

"Over the summer holidays, I began to delve into the property of one Nicholas Flammel, who passed away, peacefully, three years ago. Nicholas was a highly talented man. Amongst other things, he was a strong wizard, potions master and historian. Many years ago, he fell upon a piece of information that he believed could have the potential to change the course of wizarding kind. Something which was so powerful, that he hid it and hid it well"

"Sir?"

"You see, Harry, although he feared the information, Nicholas was an academic. To throw such a discovery away was, to him, unthinkable. Knowledge is power. But to let others find and use it… Again, he could not bring himself to. It took me the entire summer to unlock enchantments to gain the document and many more weeks of this year to understand his findings."

Harry was silent.

Dumbledore gave him a small smile. "Nicholas Flammel found a way to look into peoples' futures. Not like Divination," Dumbledore said with a chuckle at Harry's raised eyebrows, "I am not speaking of predictions, guess work and signs. I mean to actually step out of one's own time and walk into another."

Puzzled, Harry asked the first question to came to him, "But isn't the future, in itself, random, Sir? I realise that Divination is a study of predictions, but even that is not an exact science by any means. Look at the prophesy between Voldemort and me," he shrugged, "It was predicted, but it was actually Voldemort who made me the one in the prophesy when he went after my parents and not Neville's. Therefore, isn't the future pretty unpredictable."

"Indeed, Harry, you are correct. Time is a fickle thing. Ever changeable and is hard to tie down. Even as we sit here, we are writing our futures. With every decision, we write tomorrow. Whether it be to order eggs for breakfast, or to become a dark lord. The incantation discovered Nicholas found will transport you to your future that is written in that very instance, if you were to stay on that path. However, by visiting that future and by glimpsing the events that have not yet come to pass, you may inevitably end up changing those very events."

Harry bit his lower lip. "I am sorry, Professor, but I fear that you are starting to hurt my brain."

Dumbledore laughed. "I must stress how dangerous and unpredictable this magic may be. If you agree to partake in this venture, I doubt that either of us will be prepared for what you may find. I want you to stop and think about the pros and cons of this before we begin."

Shaking his head, Harry disagreed, "No, Sir! You said so yourself that we are running out of time. If there is no other way, then this must be done. Please, Sir! I need to get rid of him! Everything we do has some danger. How is this any different?"

Dumbledore's gaze pierced his. The elderly wizard took a breath and looked every year of his life in that moment. "No one stays as they are now, Harry. You may not like what you see. It may be too different for you to comprehend. You may not see anything…" Dumbledore let that last statement hang in the air.

"I want to do it."

Three hours later, the sun was setting behind the hills around the old castle. After much reading and preparing, Dumbledore raised his arm and held his wand out straight, pointing directly at Harry's head. Leveling the younger man with a stare of his blue eyes, Dumbledore asked, "Are you sure?" softly, one last time.

Taking a deep breath, Harry looked into the depths of the blue and nodded.

"I will be taking you to around twenty years from now. I don't want to go too far, or too soon. We will see what you find and work from there. Take a deep breath. This may hurt."

Dumbledore's magic unleashed from the wand. Harry's head exploded in a sea of colours and it felt like to was compressed through a vacuum. All at once, he saw everything and he saw nothing. He felt pain and he felt peace. Harry understood all, yet comprehended nothing. It came with a rush.

Everything became black.

He was driving. It was a muggle car and it seemed that he was on a busy free way somewhere. Harry's mind swum with the confusion of the sudden righting of the world and tried to adjust to the strangeness of what was occurring around him.

It was very different to being in a pensieve and watching a past memory. In this case he was much more then a spectator; he was partaking. Harry was looking out from the eyes of his future self. Harry had no control of his body, no control of what he looked at, or what his limbs did. The future Harry moved his hands down along the steering wheel and shifted his position in the seat. Harry felt the ridges in the wheel under his fingertips, the feel of his muggle jeans against his legs, but he was unable to control any of his movements. Harry was a very strange observer in his own, but future, life.

Using the eyes of the future Harry, he watched as he whizzed past cars and shifted the gears of the car. Harry inwardly smiled at the blatant display of magic that his future self displayed. Obviously the older Harry was using magic to zip and weave through the muggle drivers. The car was travelling too fast, moving into spaces too tight, as it passed others and darted left and right at breakneck speeds. The tree line against the free way was flying past in a blur of green and brown.

Adjusting to this oddity, Harry let himself mentally calm and take in his feelings and thoughts. 'Dumbledore actually did it!' his mind raced, 'I'm actually in my own future.'

Harry felt his older self flick his fringe back, which seemed to be slightly longer then how he currently wore it, and watched as his hand adjusted the rear-view mirror. In that moment, Harry caught a glimpse of the Harry of the future. The jet black hair was still a mess, but the longer length seemed to give him a rugged look that sat well with the thin, square frames that sat on his nose. A long, thin scar ran from below his left eye to his chin. He was him, but different.

Movement in the mirror caught Harry's eye and he was thankful to the future Harry as he started talking.

"How you going, Lils?" A quick scan at the road and then his eyes were back at the mirror.

A small girl, maybe six or seven, with two long plaits of dark black hair, smiled up at him. "Fine, Daddy. But Albus keeps poking my doll." The girl's bottom lip stuck out and she frown at the seat next to her, whilst clutching the doll in her lap tighter.

"Albus James," reprimanded the older Harry sternly and his eyes turned back to the road, "Leave your sister alone and keep reading your book. We are almost home and your Father will not be happy if we get there and he finds that you two have been fighting." Again the future Harry's flicked away from the road and towards the mirror. Tilting, this time he looked at a small boy who sat next to the young girl.

Harry's mind had stopped thinking since he realised that the pretty girl in the back was his own daughter. 'Lily,' he thought in wonder. Now he was drinking in the sight of his son. The boy was younger than Lily and had small, delicate features. His hair was just as dark as his sister's was, but shorter and straight, where hers had a wave through it. His skin was pale, his lips thin and light, and they contrasted strikingly with his dark hair and brows. Albus used his dark eyebrows to frown at the future Harry and without a word, turned back to the book that rested on his tiny lap.

Future Harry turned back to the road and listened to his daughter prattle on with nonsense to her doll, occasionally he would look back to watch her play or to see Albus read. Harry watched as his body made the car turn off the main road and watched as they started to drive, still at an alarmingly speed, into more residential housing. Soon, they were on the edge of a small town. As he drove, house yards became larger, and a few cows and sheep grazed in green paddocks.

Harry felt the gear level shift down and his leg press the brake. He could tell that they had reached whatever destination they were heading towards. The future Harry turned onto a dirt drive and headed towards a large brick house that sat on the side of a rolling hill.

Harry was mentally holding his breath at what he was about to find next, when his view faulted. The scene jumped as though it was a skipping record. Then it stopped altogether and he was being steadied by the Headmaster, who was looking worriedly down at him.

"You did it, Sir," Harry managed to get out around his thumping headache and swirling vision. "I saw him… the future me!"

"Good, my boy, good. Where were you?" Dumbledore's voice sounded urgent.

"I," Harry closed his eyes, he felt nauseous, "He was driving. There were kids in the back of the car." Harry sighed, "My kids. We pulled up outside a town," Harry gulped in air and felt the Headmaster lower him into a chair. "I think we were headed home from somewhere. I…"

Harry again faltered when he realized what he was about to say.

"I so happy, Harry." Dumbledore turned and gave Fawkes a stroke along his feathers. "I hope you realise what this means."

Harry looked up sharply, 'How does he know?' Harry thought as he replayed the conversation that he had had with his son in his head. He could still hear his future self say, so casually "We are almost home and your Father will not be happy if we get there and he finds that you two have been fighting". The word '_Father'_ reverberated around his head.

"Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile, "you live."

The younger man frowned at the old wizard.

"In twenty years," Dumbledore whispered slowly, "you are alive and well."

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><p>AN: All mistakes are mine, I have no beta and I am Australian. Therefore, sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes and anything that is just glaringly Aussie!


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